


what it means

by kalesmay



Category: The Wicked + The Divine
Genre: Friendship, Gen, anti morrigan, idk its just something i wanted to see post issue 37, issue 37 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 19:37:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15080240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalesmay/pseuds/kalesmay
Summary: Baphomet can still feel ravens pecking out his eyes, even after Annie erases his wounds and collapses with a snap of her fingers. His skin itches and crawls with the memory of being plucked from muscle and bone. Badb sure did a goddamn number on him; he’s stunned enough that he doesn’t register Laura’s fingers on his arm.





	what it means

**Author's Note:**

> i felt inspired after todays issue of wicdiv, and i adore laura and baph's relationship. thanks for reading!

Baphomet can still feel ravens pecking out his eyes, even after Annie erases his wounds and collapses with a snap of her fingers. His skin itches and crawls with the memory of being plucked from muscle and bone. All in all, it's probably one of the most unpleasant feelings in his life, not that he was keeping track. Badb sure did a goddamn number on him; he’s stunned enough that he doesn’t register Laura’s fingers on his arm. 

“Marian?” She hasn’t been Marian for a long time, but it’s the only name he knows how to say, the only one that could hurt him like this. The Morrigan doesn’t move. Maybe it’s better that way. Dimly, he’s aware of Persephone saying his name, but he’s too close to death for it to register. Finally, she squeezes his hand and snaps her own fingers, transporting them above ground, to the train station. He stumbles, toe of his boot catching the edge of the tracks. Laura saves him from sprawling, and leads him to one of the benches, the metal cool through his pants. 

“Baphomet? Hey, Baph, you there?” Laura’s buzzing with a restless, nervous sort of concern, and it sets him on edge. 

Dazed, he nods. “Yeah, I...yeah.” There aren’t words to describe what he’s feeling right now, so he doesn’t try. “Marian, we have to go back, see if she’s okay.” It's a reflex. He knows he shouldn't, knows she wouldn't, but he wants to anyway. Like a goddamn dog. 

Laura shakes her head, mouth twisted in disgust. “Baph, she  _ killed you _ . She can handle her fucking self.” 

And yeah, Badb had fucking killed him. The thought made his organs tighten with the memory of fluttering wings. Badb had sent her ravens after Baphomet with a shriek, and he had died with a whimper. He hadn’t even minded all that much, but Annie was just as meddlesome as her counterparts, and none of them would ever let him rest. It didn’t matter; nothing did. Fitting that the one who had made him, forged his short divine existence with her own hands, had ended it just the fucking same. 

But, Baphomet couldn’t hate her. Not for killing him, because she was just doing him a favor. It was the way Laura’s head cracked against stone, the way she crumpled to the ground, the way Morrigan’s mouth had curled as she admitted to trying to get Persephone killed, that made venom run through Baphomet’s veins. He hadn't done any of this for his own sake.

Maybe Morrigan wasn’t the one who showed him what love was. 

Laura looks at him, pity and fury swirling plain on her face. Baphomet plucks at the bloody tatters of his ruined shirt, just so he doesn’t have to look at her expression. “Are you okay? She knocked your head pretty hard.” 

She scoffs, eyes wide with disbelief. “She fucking  _ killed you _ .” 

“I know. Are you okay?” Baphomet didn’t risk — and lose — his life for himself. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Got a bit of a headache, but I’ll live.” Laura raises a hand and massages the side of her temple, fingers coming away red. They lapse into silence, Baphomet still staring at his lap, Laura chewing worriedly at her lip. Finally, she says, “There’s something I should tell you.”

Shit. Baphomet glances up, eyebrows raised, hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Her hands twist nervously as she sits down next to him on the bench. A frazzled laugh bubbles up, and Baphomet wordlessly offers his hand. She squeezes it, grateful. 

“I’m, um. I’m pregnant.” Laura’s eyes are shut. Baphomet blinks. They don’t say anything for a long, tense moment. “Did you hear me, Baphomet? I said I was—“

“Cameron.” 

She looks at him. “What?” 

“Cameron. My name. Not Baphomet.” He leans his shoulder against hers. Morrigan made Baphomet, and she killed him. He just felt like Cameron, now.

She smiles, just a little. “Cameron,” she says, trying it out. “Cute.” 

He huffs a laugh. “Thanks. Pregnant, huh? Is it mine?” 

Laura shrugs, the movement jostling the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Maybe. Might be Baal’s, but he sacrifices babies, so I kind of hope not.”

Cameron jerks. “Wait, what the fuck? He does  _ what?”  _

She giggles, nodding, then sobers. “Yeah. Weird, huh? Would you be upset if it was yours?”

He thinks about it. Being a dad had never been something he considered, mostly because he never planned to live that long, especially now that he had less than two years on the clock, but he wasn’t  _ opposed  _ to it. He didn’t think he’d be particularly good at it, but he could learn, probably. 

“No, I don’t think so. Imagine all the dad jokes, Laura.” Cameron marvels, completely serious. Laura stares at him blankly, then dissolves into laughter, shoulders shaking. Cameron smiles. 

“Right, that’s your calling. But you...you’re okay with it?” 

He shrugs. “Sure, but even if I wasn’t, it shouldn’t fucking matter to you.” Cameron doesn’t think Laura owes him jack shit, not with the hell their one night stand put her through. 

Laura cocks her head. “Fair enough.” 

Something else dawns on Cameron. “Are  _ you  _ okay with...I can’t be in a relationship, right now. Not after…I just can’t be. Sorry.” He loves Laura, cares for her with a fierce sort of fire, but he’s not  _ in  _ love with her. He’s not sure he knows how. 

Laura pats his knee, eyes soft and sweet enough to hurt, somewhere deep in his chest. “I know. I’m not asking for that, anyway. I don’t think I can do that right now, either.” Cameron understands that, too — Baal, Baphomet, Sakhmet: she hasn’t had the best luck in that department. He wonders if she feels as strongly about him the way he does about her — he’ll never ask. 

Somehow, this is enough: 

The two of them, leaned against each other, breathing in tandem on the train station bench. It’s a kind of companionship Cameron’s never known, something novel and shiny and delicate, and he knows he’ll probably break it, somehow. He always does. 

Like she’s read his mind, Laura says, “We’ll be okay.”

Cameron hasn’t been okay for a very long time, but he thinks he could be, now. He’s got friends, which is pretty new. Pretty nice. “Pinky promise?” He teases. Laura laughs, and loops her finger with his. 

“Pinky promise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: iolabunny  
> tumblr: henryscrime


End file.
